


could you tell me what's real anymore ('cause I wouldn't know)

by Gingersnaps (K___P)



Series: Not-so-traitor traitor Wilbur fics [5]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Explosions, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Making Up, Traitor Wilbur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27477928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K___P/pseuds/Gingersnaps
Summary: Festivals, combined with overly messy politics, will never go well in any universe.That's not to say that there's never any good outcomes.OR: the one where a festival actually manages to go to shit, but wilbur and techno actually talk things out
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: Not-so-traitor traitor Wilbur fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971445
Comments: 17
Kudos: 123





	could you tell me what's real anymore ('cause I wouldn't know)

**Author's Note:**

> why are you still here? just to suffer?
> 
> i have been feelin so bad lately yall im sorry i havent been writing much :pensive: i have Thoughts that i write down physically, but typing them up .... effort . why do i have to write my own stories . i hate it here
> 
> anyway happy late everything yall, hope you had a good halloween, bonfire night, Election Hell Weekend, diwali, and whatever else youre doing :]

When the first explosion rocks the ground, Techno is moving from the get-go, no matter how far away it may be. His first priority, even through the heat and rubble and instincts instilling a bone-deep panic, is making sure he himself is safe. It may not be the noble thing to do, but it's the smart one: you can't save someone from drowning if you're drowning yourself, after all.

If he acts rashly, he may end up endangering the two beside him. Luckily, his cape and position spared him the worst of the blasts, the explosions seeming more focused on range than precision, dust clouding the air already.

Assessing the situation as quickly as he can, he figures his top priorities are Tommy and Tubbo, so he presses an ender pearl in Tommy's hand, linking their arms as he mimics a throw. Their shock is only just beginning to wear off as they disappear in a cloud of purple particles, and he knows he'll get an earful for it later - Tommy loves being in the midst of the action, even if (especially if) said action will get him killed. He's stupid like that.

A second or two later, the two of them appear on top of the hill, already a chunk of the way towards Pogtopia, and Tommy immediately turns around. While his features are a little blurred from the distance, Techno can guess the expression he's making - indignant, for one, and maybe a little enraged. He takes a step down the hill, but then Tubbo rests a hand on his shoulder. He probably says something smart, given that Tommy stops dead in his tracks, both backing away from Manburg. 

Techno can't be sure that they'll actually listen to him and stay put, but the explosions seem just that little bit louder, little bit closer, and that has him on edge. Maybe it's his sensitive hearing; maybe it's his (extensive) knowledge of combat, sabotage, and the acrid scent of gunpowder on the wind. Hell, maybe it's fate.

All he knows is that he's running towards the thick of the festival, feeling shudders in his very bones, spurring him on. As he passes Fundy, he can see the discomfort on the other hybrid's face; he's probably already picked up on how _not right_ everything is.

At the sight of Techno moving at anything quicker than a casual saunter, his ears twitch, and he mutters something to the other two at his stall - Techno can't be bothered to remember their names, only knowing them as the man in the headband and the man with the goggles who fought against his brothers in the war.

(As he passes, he sees the concerned twist to their faces, the pinch in their eyebrows as they glance at each other.)

The explosions are getting louder and louder; he doesn't know if he'll make it in time. He didn't even realise he had a goal until his mind started screaming with the need to hurry up, to _protect_. It wasn't a wholly unfamiliar feeling - he'd grown up as the oldest brother to two complete and utter idiots, and then joined them in a goddamn _war_ \- but the intensity was ... surprising.

In the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of a roaring bonfire, and he angles towards it reflexively. Schlatt is talking to his vice president, harried and quiet. (Maybe before, he would've liked to see the man so stressed, but now it was just off-putting. He couldn't pinpoint exactly where this newfound conscience was coming from, but he hoped it didn't last.) Eret had made his way over to Wilbur, both frowning bitterly as they spoke. There was half-hearted denial in the way they held themselves.

Out of the small group by the fire, it was only Niki who paid attention to his appearance, catching his eye across the fire. As Eret carefully nudged her away, she took a few steps towards Techno, a soft frown creasing her features.

"Do you know what's happening?" She asked, voice strained but not hostile. (Looking at her, he doubted he would've been able to guess that she could be the scariest person on the server, at least to him. Oh, how things change.) "I swear there wasn't any firework show set, so why...?"

Reluctantly, he shook his head no, noting the _no fireworks _rule down. Wilbur was ... understandably unwilling to talk to him about his trip, and Phil was remarkably closed-mouthed when it came to privacy, so he was forced instead to pick up little clues.__

(The picture he was painting wasn't pretty.)

She opened her mouth to respond, brushing back a few strands of hair, just in time for the world to shake beneath their feet.

Techno's mind goes blank as he lunges forwards.

\---

The first explosions, distant and small, are muffled by the raucous laughter and blasting music of the festival. At first, Wilbur had thought it was just someone - probably Sapnap - setting off fireworks, and had boxed his reflexive fear into the corner of his mind. He'd seen Schlatt jump at the first _bang_ , distant though it was, and, in a sick way, almost felt comforted that he wasn't overreacting.

But then they kept coming, picking up the pace, getting louder every second, and his gut began to churn. Beside him, Niki was glancing around and Schlatt was talking to Quackity in a hushed voice, gesturing vaguely towards the direction of the _boom_ s. 

Eret exchanged a loaded look with him from across the street, already stepping away from the stall he'd been visiting. Wilbur bit his lip, before grimacing, and Eret sidled up next to him, gently nudging Niki away from the direction of the explosions.

"Is it just me, or does this feel oddly familiar?" He says, deep voice more comforting than Wilbur had expected it to be. (He doesn't think about his brother with a voice to match, warmth bleeding through the monotone.) "Like, I hate to bring it up at the festival, but ..."

"...no, no, I get what you mean." And he does, really; even if circumstances were different, there was no denying the deja vu he felt. The lingering resentment for the man in front of him has slowly waned - _very_ slowly, but faded all the same.

They lapse into another silence, not from any ill will towards the other, but one borne from mutual unease. They were preparing for something, though neither could place _what_.

And then, three things happen at once:

One; Eret opens his mouth to reply, before closing it again and pointing to a pink blur in the corner of his vision.

Two; the bad feeling in Wilbur's gut grows to something almost overwhelming, almost overpowering.

Three; the ground beneath them tears apart, rubble and dust and dirt spraying out in every direction.

In the midst of it all, Wilbur can only think an exhausted, resigned _not again_.

\---

Under the harsh orange light of the setting sun, Manburg is razed to the ground, buildings collapsing in on themselves and flames licking at tattered fabric. 

Two teenagers watch in terror, clutching tightly at each other's palms, as their old home - as their old _family _\- is swallowed up in a cloud of dust and fire.__

__One barely stifles a choked sob, knees collapsing underneath them. The other follows them to the ground blindly, eyes unable to comprehend the sight in front of them._ _

__Oh, how things change._ _

\---

When he regains awareness, the first thing he takes note of is the fact that his body _fucking hurts_. At least, back when he got blown up with Schlatt, the Sky Gods had the mercy to kill him and relieve some of his pain; now, unless this is somehow all an especially vivid nightmare, he's been left to the fun of whatever bruises and burns he received in the explosions.

The next is that it's unreasonably dark and cramped, dust floating dangerously in the air, and rocks are digging into his back. Claustrophobic he may not be, but the circumstances were _really_ not in his comfort zone.

After that is the realisation that he's lying on his back, but neither his head nor body are lying directly on the cold, hard floor; instead, it feels like some sort of fabric, some of which is wrapped over his front in a makeshift blanket.

The last thing is that someone is running their fingers through his hair, mumbling softly in a way that makes his eyelids droop. Their nails are slightly longer than normal, just barely sharpened into something like claws, and feel stupidly comforting as they trace circles into his scalp. Their other hand is tapping out small rhythms into his shoulder, and if he focuses hard enough through the ringing in his ears he can match their humming to the beats.

It's a familiar tune, one that brings him memories of beaches and campfires and _home_ , of childhood and laughter and--

And of Techno.

Wilbur cracks open an eye, careful not to let his brother (is he allowed to call him his brother, still? Techno's not hurting him, so he doesn't hate him, right?) notice he's awake. The other isn't paying full attention to him, actions absentminded yet being so tender he thinks he could cry. 

Techno's hands have callouses from swordfighting and potato farming alike, his entire body strong from training since he was young. And yet, he had only ever shown gentleness to his family, curling up next to Wilbur on the sofa or bandaging up Tommy's scrapes, back when they were all kids and the most pressing issue was who got to sleep on the biggest bed.

(They all crammed themselves in the bed anyway, but it was a matter of principal.)

His older brother isn't looking at him, instead staring off into the distance, somehow still regal with dirt smudged over his face and a cut bleeding sluggishly on his forehead. Wilbur had never been able to explain just _why_ Techno could look like two separate people, but he had never felt the divide more clearly than now. It was like a switch could be flipped, from _'rarely irritated, stupidly protective older brother'_ to one deserving of the moniker of Blood God. 

Belatedly, he realised that the other wasn't wearing his signature red cloak, and instead, it was wrapped around Wilbur, the fur collar tickling his ears in a way painfully reminiscent of their childhood. Techno's cloak had been his only possession, along with a dented golden helmet and golden sword, even though it was ridiculously oversized for a child.

(He had defended the cloak with his life, not even hesitating to snap and snarl at Tommy, Wilbur or Phil when they tried to take it. Despite that, there were times, in the dead of night, where Tommy's sniffles or Wilbur's shakes were muffled by a soft, red blanket. He adamantly denied his involvement.)

Feeling ... safe, for the first time in so _long_ , he was willing to let his eyelids flutter closed, just for a moment.

\---

When he next regained consciousness, his head had been moved onto Techno's lap, and the other's hands were steadily combing through his messy hair, gently untangling each knot. Cracking open his eyes, just a tad, he could just barely pick out deep red eyes narrowed in focus.

They cleared, though, and widened in surprise as Techno seemed to register that Wilbur was awake. Almost immediately, he drew back, but he made sure that Wil didn't knock his head on the floor in his haste.

Still groggy, Wilbur groaned, already missing the warmth and gentleness of the other's motions, but Techno had wedged himself into a corner. He didn't look like he would be moving anytime soon, eyes tracking his face in a way that put Wilbur on edge. The expression wasn't threatening, per se - hell, it was almost the exact opposite, the concern in his eyes was almost tangible, even as he shifted himself further away. It was almost like ...

...almost like he was worried about scaring a small animal. Almost like he was worried of scaring _Wilbur_. That was ... embarrassing, considering that Techno never looked unsure of himself; seeing his infuriatingly unruffled demeanour cracked was unsettling.

A wave of overpowering guilt swept over him - he'd done this, hadn't he? He'd made his brother doubt himself, had brought a divide between them where before they'd been inseparable. All because he'd accepted a too-good deal from a too-bright grin, and then gone ahead and been surprised when it had all gone to shit.

Hell, he hadn't even been able to handle it himself, had he? He'd had to rely on Phil's warm guidance, and Niki's unwavering support, all while his brothers thought he'd just-just _left_ them!

It was a quiet, controlled, "Wilbur?" that brought him back down, and he was faced with his reality. Even if nothing changed after this, if they went back to averted eyes and thinly veiled avoidance, he just wanted to clear his chest and his head. Even if it was only Techno who heard this, at least _someone_ who he'd hurt could get some closure.

He took in a shaky breath.

"Techno, I'm-"

\---

"Wilbur, I need to-"

They both stopped, blinking at each other in the low light. Despite the circumstances, uncertain and grim, Techno had to hold back a huff. Here he was, trying to apologise, and Wilbur was just talking over him?

(Little did he know, Wilbur was thinking the same thing.)

"Wilbur, look. I'm ..." Sky Gods above, why was it so hard to just ... spit it out? He wasn't ashamed to admit that he'd had to practice it a little in front of a mirror, and then Tommy (his brother hadn't mocked him, instead grinning and correcting his stumbles. It was more comforting than he'd expected), so how come this was giving him so much trouble?

For his part, Wilbur had begun to shrink into the cloak, tugging it tighter round his ears as his own brow furrowed. "It's-It's fine, Techno. I should've never taken Schlatt's fucking deal, right? It was dumb, and-and selfish, and I just hurt you and Tommy more than I helped, didn't I?"

...what? What the hell was Wilbur _on_ about? If anything, it was Techno who had done the most damage, so why was he sitting there, clearly holding back a sob?

"I-I know you probably don't want anything to do with me, that's what you're saying, right? Everyone else says that you don't hate me, but you don't have to lie to me, y'know? It's so, so obvious that you're just _waiting_ for a moment to turn round and leave me, too, exactly like how I left you and Tommy and-"

" _Wilbur_." He didn't mean for his voice to come out as harsh, but it stopped Wilbur's spiralling in its tracks, so he counted it as a win. Softer, he continued, taking the other's hands in his own. (He tried to look past the way they both reflexively relaxed into the familiar touch.) "I don't hate you - I swear on my reputation, I could never hate you. I was- I was angry, and ... Tommy's just a kid, yknow? I didn't want him to think this kinda shit was normal, but I . Went about it the wrong way.

"So ... what I'm tryna say, Wil, is that I'm sorry. You did what you thought was best, and I just made your life harder. I hope you can forgive me."

His voice, already unused to speaking so much at once, was beginning to become raspy with the dust hanging in the air. God, he wanted some water so bad, it wasn't even funny. Plus, his shoulder _really_ fucking hurt, so that would bother him for the rest of his (potentially very short) life, and-

Oh, right, he was talking to Wilbur, who had just ... leapt at him. God, that hurts.

"Wil-?"

"So you- you _don't_ hate me-?" He choked out, tears beginning to soak through his shirt.

"Oh, Wil," he sighed, dropping his chin onto the other's messy hair. His heart ached at the tremble in Wilbur's voice, and he wrapped his arms around his shaking shoulders. "Nobody ever hated you, alright? We- I felt a little bit slighted, sure, but above all else, I was worried, you know? For you, and for Tommy. You guys are important to me, remember? 'Sides, I doubt Tommy could ever bring himself to actually dislike you, Wil."

He let his words hang in the air for what felt like a minute or two, but could very well have been an hour, before speaking again. This time, there was a wry tint to his voice, one that made Wilbur's mouth twitch into something resembling a smile. "Get irritated, sure, but you call him a child every other day. It's kinda deserved, honestly."

Wilbur snorted, his grip slowly loosening as he relaxed against Techno's side. "'S not my fault he's such a little bastard, though, is it?"

Rolling his eyes, he messed up the other's curly hair, ignoring his weak sounds of protest. "I don't wanna hear that comin' from you, Wilbur."

His brother let out a scandalised gasp, but his affronted glare was weakened by a poorly-restrained yawn. Techno raised his eyebrows, but patted his shoulder, and Wilbur gave him an exhausted half-smile before plonking his head on the cushioning provided by his cloak and falling promptly asleep.

Given the circumstances, Techno was almost envious - just _how_ Wilbur managed to sleep anywhere was beyond him - but figured it was probably best for one of them to stay awake; there would probably be some sort of rescue mission, and he didn't want them to be skipped over just because they were both sleeping.

Even as he thinks that, though, he can feel his blinks slowly, steadily, becoming longer, more frequent; his nights were often restless, after all, guarding the base and gathering materials day in, day out. Besides, he was comfortable, with his cloak half-draped over their laps and resting on his shoulder as a pillow, Wilbur snoring away at his side.

He's glad that, if nothing else, he and Wilbur have reconciled.

\---

(Later, a rescue party is indeed sent out to look for anyone still in the ruins of Manburg. It is Eret and Niki who unearth the two of them, wedged in a small box-type thing against a wall, covered by a half-collapsed ceiling.

They're both asleep, leaning into each other's sides; Wilbur is drooling a little, and Techno's crown was laying a few feet away from them.

They glance at each other, shrug, and clear out the rest of the debris, careful not to disturb the two.)

**Author's Note:**

> take a shot every time i skip my own plot points because im impatient
> 
> anyway !! hope you enjoyed this, even though i kinda hate it hsbdhejsd this is just an excuse to let me right pure fluff later on
> 
> ALSO !!! do you guys prefer uhhhhhhhhhhhh longer oneshots, like 2.5k+ words that take longer, or shorter 1k+ fics that would probably come out quicker . is for science


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